


Alter Ego

by LikeMeReckless



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-12 23:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18456554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeMeReckless/pseuds/LikeMeReckless
Summary: She stood silent, fingers trembling, unable to move, unable to breath.  He heard an inhale and what sounded like the choking back of tears and immediately was fitted behind her, gazing at what she had held in her hands.The letter was typed, giant sized font, and at the bottom was taped a photograph of Betty, sitting at her vanity in her bedroom.The letter read:Wherever you go, I will always find you.Whatever you do, I’ll be right behind you.———————————————————————I’ve always found myself wondering if Betty’s webcam escapades would come back to haunt her.  That story line seemed to be dropped, so I decided to pick it up.  I figure this could fit right in after season 2, but prior to Archie’s arrest.  I mean, at this point, what’s a little more Betty trauma, am I right?Disclaimer- I don’t own these characters. I just like them.  And writing. And stories.  And words. And chocolate sprinkles- never rainbow.





	1. Chapter 1

Life was good. Well, okay, maybe not good- but certainly better than it had been. Hal Cooper was behind bars, Jughead was on the mend, Alice’s tirades and breakdowns seemed to dwindle, and Betty was happy to be back at school.

She pondered how all that chaos could end so quickly and how after all that she could possibly sit here having conversations with her friends about things as trivial as dress styles for the upcoming dance.

“Helloooo? Betty? Earth to Betty?” chanted Veronica from across the table.

She shook her head an refocused. “Sorry, V. What did you say?”

“I said,” she drawled out, “Do you have a dress style in mind already for the dance?”

She pushed some food around her plate and shrugged at her friends. “I don’t know V if I am honestly up for a dance.”

“Betty- no way. You HAVE to come. After everything you just went through you deserve a night out.” she said pointedly, looking directly at Jughead.

“It’s just- it all feels wrong. Fake. Like an act, maybe? Three weeks ago all hell was breaking loose and now I’m supposed to be all gushy about a dance?” said Betty, shaking her head and pushing her lunch away.

Beside her, Jughead placed an arm around her shoulders, the heaviness weighing down on her like a weighted blanket, helping to drown out some of her anxieties.

“Betty,” said Archie, “We aren’t pretending that all of that stuff didn’t happen. The entire town was pretty much destroyed. But, we can try to move forward and maybe put some more distance between us and the past.”

Betty looked up, surprised by his words.

“Arch.” she said. “Wow- that was deep and-“

“Profound.” added Jughead, cutting her off.

Archie shrugged. “Yeah , well, that’s what my Dad told me when I said I couldn’t stomach a dance. I can’t take credit.”

The crew all laughed at that and Jughead pilfered some carrots off Betty’s still full tray. “What do you say, Betty?” he asked, popping some carrots in his mouth. “Spend a night indulging in cliche music and 6 inch apart enforced dancing?” 

“You really want to go, Jug?” she asked quizzically. “Dances haven’t always gone the best for us.”

He held up a carrot to her lips. The truth was, he wanted to go to this dance about as much as he wanted to eat carrots- not at all. But he figured if he played with food and tried to feed her like a cutesy wootsy boyfriend, maybe she’d actually eat something for a change. 

The past few weeks, after everything that happened, he could see the angles in her jawline more pronounced, the dip in her collarbones more hollow, her bone itself like a mountain peak jutting from beneath her skin, hidden by the button up cardigans she wore. Maybe a dance, he had thought, could be a good distraction.

Betty looked at him curiously, but as not to shoot him down in front of their friends, took the bait and ate the carrot stick. He followed the carrot stick up with a quick kiss and replied, “The truth is, after this riveting lunch conversation, we have to go because I must know exactly what dress style you chose.”

She slapped his arm playfully as he stuck another half a carrot in his mouth, raising a brow and challenging her to bite. With a look of, “really?” and a return brow quirk, she bit the other half, indulging in whatever had gotten into him today.

As Betty chewed, she gathered up her bag and notebook, ready to head back inside.

“B? Where are you going?” asked Veronica as Betty rose from the table. 

“Sorry, V. The press never sleeps. I have to go layout the new issue of the B&G.” she apologized.

As Betty walked away she thought she heard Kevin’s voice say, “But we didn’t pick a dress style.”

Upon entering the silence of the newspaper office, Betty felt more at peace. The room was warm and contained; predictable and reliable. It was her safe space- her only safe space these days outside of a Jughead’s arms. She dropped her bags and percolated herself a cup of sludgy instant coffee. It was not exactly a caramel macchiato, but it would do.

It was at the moment she took her first sips that she noticed an envelope sitting on her computer keyboard. Hoping for a juicy lead, she tore off the top and slipped out the single sheet of white paper encased inside.

As she read the letter, fingers trembling, Jughead walked in behind her.

“Betty, you forgot-“ he began, his words silenced as her fingers went slack, the ceramic coffee mug and piping hot liquid falling to the floor and splintering into millions of pieces.

She stood silent, body rigid, unable to move, unable to breath. He heard an inhale and what sounded like the choking back of tears and immediately was fitted behind her, gazing at what she had held in her hands.

The letter was typed, giant sized font, and at the bottom was taped a photograph of Betty, sitting at her vanity in her bedroom.

The letter read:  
Wherever you go, I will always find you.  
Whatever you do, I’ll be right behind you.

“Jesus, Betty” he said, pulling her into his chest. “Is this a sick joke? Your Dad? Or maybe the ghoulies? I swear I will kill them.”

She had no words at that moment. As her friends still sat debating A-line versus mermaid cuts, Betty was once again in the line of fire.


	2. Alter Ego- Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She remembers a summer day, back when the days seemed long and the nights seemed like magic, where she and Archie and Jughead were playing in Jughead’s treehouse.

She remembers a summer day, back when the days seemed long and the nights seemed like magic, where she and Archie and Jughead were playing in Jughead’s treehouse. 

The boys, being boys, were pretending to be superheroes from their favorite comics; destroying invisible foes, shooting lasers from their eyes, and saving the world.

Betty had wanted to play, too, saying she could be supergirl. 

“Sorry, Betty.” Archie had said. “You’re a girl- so you need to play the damsel in distress so I can save you.”

She had wrinkled up her face at that. “That doesn’t sound like fun, Arch.” she had said. “I want to fight the bad guys, too.”

“That’s not how it works, Betty.” he shook his head coming over to her. 

From the other side of the treehouse came Jughead’s voice. “Girls can be superheroes, too. Betty, you can be Wonder Woman. She defeated Circe and Doctor Psycho. She’s a pretty cool comic character.”

Archie rolled his eyes and muttered, “Whatever. Let’s play.” and went chasing after his imaginary foe.

“Thank you, Juggie.” said Betty. 

Jughead had just shrugged and run off to find his friend.

“Betty? Betty?” his voice pulled her from her fog, calling her back to the here and now. “Are you with me?”

“I’m sorry, Jug? What were you saying- I was kind of -lost there for a minute.”

They sat on her bed, legs crossed, letter splayed on the comforter before them. Somehow, in this moment, she felt like that little girl again. She was both the damsel and Wonder Woman over and over again and the role was not as fun as when she was a child.

“I said,” he continued, “we should go down to the police station. We need to-“

“Jug!” she yelled, her hands coming up to her temples to rub at the headache forming behind her eyes. “We have gone over this! What would we say?”

“That maybe your Dad-“ he began, before she stopped him with a frustrated sigh.

“That my father, the one who is behind bars, is sending me threats?” she snapped. 

“Or maybe we can try and explain how the Ghoulies, before they beat you within an inch of your life, said they’d come after me. And that they work for Hiram Lodge now? Each story sounds crazier than than the last!” she laughed, hands wildly waving between them, emphasizing her frustration.

His hands stilled hers, resting her palms between his own. He glanced up at her face, her teeth worrying at her lower lip, face flushed after her tirade. His eyes fell back down to her hands and he pushed her clenched palms open to reveal, shallow, crescent shaped cuts on the palms of her hands.

Embarrassed, she looked away, fresh tears forming in the corners of her eyes. 

“Betty,” he whispered. “We have to do something.”

She pulled her hands from his, using a thumb to wipe the corners of her eyes.

“We’ll do what we always do, Jug.” she countered. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

He conceded, finally, with a nod of his head. A small smile formed on her lips that did not reach up to her eyes.

“It’s going to be fine.” she said. “We have more people- more resources at our disposal now. Perks of being a Serpent Queen.”

He nodded again, still not reassured. Something was not sitting right with him, but for now, he would placate her.

“Until we figure this out I am staying here with you.” he insisted. “I don’t care if I have to drag that ladder to your window every night.”

“Okay.” she whispered, knowing she had pushed his limits enough already today.

“So, where do we start?” he asked.


	3. Alter Ego Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday night, in Archie’s garage, their platoon met. Leather and black mixed with blue and gold and a touch of Prada. 
> 
> With the Wyrm out of their control and Veronica’s plans just entering into fruition, their meeting spaces were limited. So a motley crew of an army gathered in between amps and barbells to listen to the newly their newly minted King.
> 
> Disclaimer: I still don’t own them.

Jughead had spent Thursday night at Betty’s house, but hadn’t gotten much sleep. Mostly, he watched her sleep, watched the street below, and replayed their conversations from the past several hours.

He wondered how could she be so calm about this- almost cold and numb- and to be honest it was starting to worry him. At least she’s actually sleeping tonight. That comforted him and he was hoping that his presence was in part responsible for that. 

They had mutually agreed to gather all of the possible motives together before seeking help from their collective group of friends. 

Friday night, in Archie’s garage, their platoon met. Leather and black mixed with blue and gold and a touch of Prada. 

With the Wyrm out of their control and Veronica’s plans just entering into fruition, their meeting spaces were limited. So a motley crew of an army gathered in between amps and barbells to listen to the newly minted Serpent King.

The question on all their minds was similar: What are we all doing here together. After Fred’s hospitality, no one directly questioned Jughead out loud, but they were all quite curious.

Cheryl finally broke the silence with a sigh. “Alright, you saggy crowned snake. What exactly are we doing here with-“ she glanced over at Veronica, Archie, and Kevin, all seared together on a sofa, “Donald, Goofy, and Daisy Duck.”

“Cheryl-“ he began interrupted by her next onslaught. 

“And where is your perky little Minnie?” she continued. “Picking out an appropriate sweater?” 

As she finished, the garage door opened and Betty strode in. She had in fact been picking out an appropriate sweater, a statement piece for one of tonight’s many declarations. 

Her usual blue jeans had been traded for a black skirt, barely reaching the end of her fingertips. Her black Tee had been cropped to show some mid-drift and the V cascaded further than she usually dared. To top it all off was a leather jacket, Serpent logo emblazoned across the back.

She strode across the room, eyes locked on his the whole time. She was aware of the voices sounding around her.

She heard Archie’s cry of, “Betty- what?”

She felt Veronica’s gasp of surprise and, she could tell, distaste.

But with it all, she strode over to Jughead, just as they had planned. They would make both a statement and a request this evening. That she was, in fact, his queen and that they, in turn, were contracted to protect her.

As she reached his perch in an armchair, he reached out his hand to her, pulling her to his lap to face their congregation.

“Now, Cheryl.” Jughead said calmly. “I’m ready to begin.”

“I called you all hear tonight because I, rather We, need your help. As many of you may remember, Betty already performed the dance of a Serpent in our presence.”

A few nods of remembrance, along with sky smiles that Jughead would have liked to wipe off of their faces appeared. 

Kevin looked over to Veronica to mouth. “What?”

She shot him a look that said, “Not now.”

Jughead continued. “She has defended us regularly at great personal cost. And now, has officially taken her place at my side, as my queen.”

Toni shot Jughead a look is distaste while Cheryl looked Betty up and down and said, “I think I like you better now, cousin.”’

“I was willing to give my life to protect all of you last year. Will you do the same now to help me protect my love?”

Silence only lingered for a moment before Fangs voice broke through with, “What do you need from us, Jug?”

His arms squeezed Betty around her waste and she let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. She placed both feet down as they both stood to share the events of the past few days with the gatherers in the garage.

With the letter now placed on the only table in the room, Betty and Jughead began a diatribe detailing everyone who may behind the letter.

“When I gave myself over to the Ghoulies, they told me the only thing I should be afraid of is what they were going to do to Betty. This letter doesn’t seem like their M.O., but they aren’t off the table as suspects.”

The guys nodded in agreement.

“If this is them, then it’s because of me. Because of us. And we, gentlemen, protect our own. Am I right?”

A chorus of “hell yeah” went through the garage, the guys animated at the prospect of another go at the Ghoulies.

“So, you want us to shake up some Ghoulies? See what we can find out?” asked Sweet Pea, already raring to go.

“Yeah. If you guys can start there that would cover one big possibility. And, Veronica?” he said, turning to her.

“Me? With the Ghoulies?” she questioned, a look of humor on her face.

Jughead took a deep breath and shared a look with Betty.

“No, V.” she said. “Not the Ghoulies- well sort of. We need you to spy on your Dad. He’s the one dealing with them, who had Juggie beat within an inch of his life. Maybe this is part of his game.”

Veronica wanted to protest, but she knew that it was a real possibility. With a resigned shrug of her shoulders she said, “Anything to keep my girl safe.”

It was then that Archie finally spoke up. “What else, Jug... Betty. There’s something else you haven’t told us.”

Betty took a step forward towards him. “While the Serpents press the Ghoulies we thought you guys could help us look for outside connections to- my Dad.”

“Your Dad? Why would he-“ began Archie.

“Because he think that I am like he is- full of darkness and, I don’t even know. He told me I can’t hide and it wouldn’t be the first time he sent me creepy letters.” she said, eyes scanning the room.

“So,” breathes Jughead. “Let’s see what we can find out. Leave no stone unturned. This one is- very personal to me, guys. I’m counting on you all.”

As the garage cleared, Betty envelopes herself in Jughead’s arms, stress of the day still coursing through her veins.

“B-“ said Veronica, hanging back with Archie and Kevin, “we will figure this out. I promise you.”

She turned a cheek to smile. “I know, guys. I really love you all and am so thankful to have you in my crazy life.”

“You guys wanna just hang here for a bit tonight? Or maybe grab a shake at Pops?” asked Archie.

Betty shook her head. “Honestly, I am so tired and I just- I need a little quiet tonight guys.”

Rounds of “Okay”, “Sure”, and “Of Course”, went through the remaining friends and Jug dropped a hand down to the small of her back to walk her home.

“You can go to Pops, Juggie.” she said as they crossed the lawn. “If you’re hungry.”

He pulled her closer, lips brushing the curve of her ear, and whispered, “Betty Cooper, if you think I’m dining on anything other than you tonight after seeing you in this outfit, you may actually be as crazy as you always think you are.”

She smiled back at him, dragging a lip between her teeth. “Well then, you better hurry up and get that ladder of yours because this diner is not always open 24/7”

With that she dodged his kiss and ran across the street to her front door, where she turned to look back for him. He was already headed to the side of the house to grab the ladder when he saw her wink before entering her house.

They would be okay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I still don’t own them.

The Pembrooke

The sounds of cutlery rubbing against China echoed through the room. The clanging was the only sound filling the vast space which was void of conversation. Water was poured, chicken was cut, tight rehearsed smiles exchanged. This was the new normal at the Lodge household. Veronica was the one to cut the thick silence, mission in mind.

“Daddy?” she said.

“Yes, Mija” he said looking up from his plate.

“You remember my friend, Betty? Pretty blonde?” she asked.

“Yes, of course Veronica. She’s stayed over a few times that I can remember.” he said.

“Well, she received this weird threat letter in the mail this week. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it?” she dared ask.

Hiram Lodge, dressed in his polished button down, not a hair out of place, lay down his fork and wiped his lips with his napkin, frustration growing evident on his face.

“How many times need we go over this? Not every bad thing that happens in Riverdale is somehow my fault.” he said, tone raising the longer he spoke.

“Well, yes. I do know there must be some type of cap on the amount of evil you can put forward at one time, but Betty also happens to be the girlfriend of Jughead Jones.” added Veronica, cooly staying that fact.

He nods. “I see. And her relationship status is somehow applicable to these menial accusations?”

“Well, seeing as you attempted to have her boyfriend beaten to death after the riot, yes, I’d say it does.” challenged Veronica.

Hiram eyed her carefully. “More accusations, Mija. I know that you are angry with me, but really, you could be more careful with your words.”

“Daddy, Betty is off limits.” yelled Veronica, anger permeating her usually calm exterior.

Standing from the table, and walking towards his study he said, “Veronica, Betty Cooper is of absolutely no interest to me.”

When the large oak door to his study closed, Veronica ended the recording on her phone and texted the exchange to Betty and Jughead. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

—————————————————————  
“So can we eliminate, Hiram, Jug?” said Betty as they sat in the trailer, him spread out under her while she lay comfortably atop his chest, the Netflix screen gone black in the background with an “are you still watching” screen displayed.

“Too soon to say. But honestly, it doesn’t seem like his style either.” he replied, hands absentmindedly stroking her back. “The guys are still working on finding Malachai. The Ghoulies seems to have gone underground temporarily after the riots.”

With the talk of Ghoulies and Lodges out of the way, they settled into comfortable silence for a while. For some it would be considered an awkward silence, but for them it was peace. A quiet moment away from all the noise. Minutes passed before she broke it.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with us, Jug?” she asked. “It’s Saturday night and we’re talking about death threats, in the dark, after rewatching Making a Murderer.”

“I think that we have had more than our share of darkness- more so than most kids our age.” he murmured into the crown of her hair, splayed out under his chin.

“I think that all things considered? We are doing amazing and for me, it’s because I have you.” he added.

She leaned up on her forearms, gazing at him through the glow of the TV screen before she lowered her lips to his as to return the sentiment. 

The Netflix prompt never got its answer that night. Any questions would be silenced by the gentle rustle of clothes, lips brushing lips, and soft laughter into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As some of the Serpents find a Ghoulie hideout and Jughead confronts them, Betty must confront some demons of her own.
> 
> Disclaimer- still not mine. I just like to write about them.

Wednesday afternoon, Jughead’s phone sounded. He had been sitting on the threadbare couch of the trailer, fingers idle when they should have been tickling the tiles of his keyboard. The words that usually flowed so freely for him seemed to be parched; dried up by the all consuming thoughts about Betty and her mysterious stalker. 

As he answered the phone he was pleased to learn that Sweet Pea and Cheryl had gotten a lead on where two Ghoulies were holed up together, probably burned out. Upon surveillance it seemed as if it was, in fact, just the two currently inhabiting that location.

“Do you want us to go in?” asked Sweet Pea, itching for a fight.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes. See if you can get a hold of Fangs as well. We don’t want to be led into a trap or outnumbered.” he replied.

He hung up the phone and quickly headed out to meet them. Betty was with Veronica, which was a blessing. If she had heard the call she would have insisted on going. He jumped on his bike and headed off to meet the Serpents.  
———————————————————

“Okay, what about this style?” Veronica popped out of her closet in what was probably about the thirtieth dress she had tried on since they arrived after school.

She had insisted Betty come play dress up to get her mind off of everything going on.

“This one looks amazing, too, V.” she said, losing interest at this point. “Everything looks amazing on you.”

“Yes- I know,” she smiled, “but I want to make a statement.... And I want Archie to lose his mind.”

“Well,” said Betty, popping another Twizzler in her mouth, “since you arrived in Riverdale, everything you have done has been a statement and pretty sure Archie is already pretty smitten. I’d say mission accomplished.”

Veronica laughed along with her, tossing a shoe at her for good measure. 

“What about you, though?” Veronica pried. “Don’t you want to try on a dress to see if you can rock the tell tale heart of your personal broody faced Poe?”

She blushed and tucked an errant stray of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know if any of these are me.” she said.

“Come on, Betty!” whined Veronica. “Let your fun side out to play! There’s more to life than pastels and I know you two are not that innocent my friend.”

This time it was Betty’s turn to toss a shoe back at her.

As they laughed, Betty’s joviality turned cold. Something V had said brought another reality crashing down on her. The talk of wild sides brought back memories of her darkness and that of Chic. Suddenly she had a rush of clarity; What if he survived? He was without a doubt creepy enough to send that letter and he knew his way around her world. At that moment dress browsing seemed even less distracting than before.  
—————————————————————  
Jughead arrived as fast as promised to find his friends still waiting, poised to go. He looked up at the building, dank and decaying in appearance, reeking with an air of unpleasantness. 

“Still just the two.” said Sweet Pea, pocket knife already in hand to head into the fray.

Jughead nodded to them, excitement coursing through him at the prospect of getting some answers.

“Okay. Sweet Pea and Fangs, you come with me. Cheryl, keep look out.” he said.

“Why do I get left behind?” complained Cheryl, not exactly inconspicuous and hidden in her bright red leather jacket.

“Because.” sighed Jughead. “Without your bow your mouth is your only weapon.”

From their shaded location across the street, they surged forward into the dingy building, watching their surroundings carefully. The yellow hallway lights flickered while the walls themself were crumbled and sticky with unease.

Fangs pointed at an apartment door and they all paused. For a moment they stood quietly breathing, listening for a shuffle of feet or a sound of acknowledgement of their presence, but none came.

At Jughead’s signal, they pushed through the door, taking the lethargic duo inside by surprise. 

“Shit-“ they began, bodies pushing themselves up, springs from the rusty patio furniture they inhabited squeaking with the sudden force. One reached for a pocket knife on the rickety old coffee table, but as they were too astonished to react quickly enough they were both easily grabbed, prize still laying out of reach.

Fangs and Sweet Pea had easily restrained them, overpowering both in height and muscle. Jughead walked over and casually slid the pocket knife off the coffee table. 

“For me?” he teased. “You shouldn’t have.”

“You should be dead.” one of the scrawny guys said as he spat in Jughead’s direction. Fangs tightened his grasp, pulling his arms even tighter behind his back eliciting a slight cry of discomfort.

Jughead stepped forward, over the littered beer bottles and playing cards, pizza boxes and matches until he was just about an inch from his face.

“You are right. I should be dead” he said. “But I am not and I’m afraid that is bad- for you.”

He flicked open the blade of the pocket knife and held it up to the chatty one’s cheek.

“I assume you are aware that I’m very good at carving by now. So, I advise you to play nicely and I won’t return the favor and cut you open.” he threatened.

He flicked his head towards the chairs and his friends wrangled the men into them, restraining their arms behind them.

“Now.” said Jughead. “Let’s play a game. You tell me the truth and I don’t cut you, slowly, over and over again.”

He backed away slightly to grab the old, rickety coffee table in the center of the room and dragged it over towards the lawn chairs. As he sat down, he felt it give a bit under his weight, but he wanted to be eye level when they answered his questions.

“Question 1.” he said, opening and closing the blade between his fingers. “Did any one of you, or your affiliates, send a threatening letter to my girlfriend.”

Silence grew in the room and added to the mounting tension. At first, neither spoke, but when Jughead lifted the knife towards the blonde Ghoulie’s face, his silence broke.

“Didn’t think a milksop like you could get a girl.” he said.

“Wrong answer.” said Jughead. Without any hesitation, or forewarning, his fist drew back and made rapid contact with the man’s face.

“Oh, F-.” he began, but his moans were cut off as Jughead continued.

“Let’s try again. My girlfriend received a threatening letter. What do you know about that?” he said, tone slightly more angry.

In truth, he wanted to crack their skulls open, guilty or not, but he needed information. The blonde looked up at him, blood trickling from  
his nose and said, “I don’t know anything about your girlfriend.”

“Again.” said Jughead. “Wrong. Answer.” 

This time he nodded to Sweet Pea who had been restraining him during his interrogation. Standing above him provided a good amount of leverage. He allowed one arm to slip from bleeding Ghoulie’s arms and it wrapped around his neck from behind. There, in the crook of his arm, the fun began. He squeezed just enough to elicit a feeling of exficiating. As he worked the blonde captive, Jughead turned his sights on his dark haired counterpart.

“Okay. Your turn. What do you know about the letter my girlfriend received.” he asked.

“I don’t know anything-“ he began.

“WRONG ANSWER.” bellowed Jughead, patience wearing. 

Sweet Pea’s chokehold tightened, leaving the blonde gasping and choking for air. At the same time, Jughead raised the knife up to the other man’s eye. 

“One. More. Time.” he enunciated. “What do you know.”

His reply wasn’t swift, so Jughead pointed the knife into the side of his face, a tiny nick forming.

“I don’t know about a letter! Just that Malachai and Penney do talk about her from time to time!” he yelled.

Without removing the knife, he pressed him further.

“More. What do you mean?” he yelled.

“They call her Sugar Cookie. Since Penny had told him about her that’s been her nickname around our crew. Since you don’t have a bar anymore he said messing with her would be one way to defile enemy territory.”

Jughead pulled back the knife, looking him up and down. He was probably a teenager about his age, too. He probably also had a poor home life and Ghoulie’s stopped him from getting his ass kicked at South Side High at the time. He took a step back from it all.

“Send Penny and Malachai a message for me.” he turned and sent another blow across the face of the blonde, who Sweet Pea had recently released his hold on. 

“Betty is off limits.” he said.

He nodded to Fangs and Sweet Pea who released them. The blonde falling spent into his seat. As they turned to leave they heard him sneer, “A letter would never be Ghoulie style. If Malachai wanted her, he’d never give her warning.”

At that moment Jughead had been thinking something similar. Penny And Malachai he could tackle, but an unnamed foe would be so much harder.  
————————————————————-

That night they sat on Betty’s bed, him recounting his afternoon encounter and her holding an ice pack to his swollen knuckles.

“I hate that you have to be like this for me, Jug.” she said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I punched someone for you.” he shrugged smiling down at her.

“Yes, I do recall another conversation about you being a lover, not a fighter.” she retorted.

“I still have layers.” he added, the tone of the room lightening.

“I happen to like your lover layer kinda sorta a lot.” she smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

“Wow. Articulate response, Ms. aspiring journalist.” he whispered against her lips.

“Shut up, Juggie.” she muttered back.

As their lips teased and nipped, slid and teased, they heard a creak from the living room below.

He pulled back quickly to look at her. 

“I thought your Mom was out?” he stated.

“Juggie, she is.” replied Betty, fear creeping up her spine.

“Stay here.” he told her, rising from the bed and grabbing the pocket knife from earlier.

“You stay here.” she laughed, grabbing a baseball bat she started keeping next to her bed.

He shot her a “you are impossible” type of glare to which she sent a “deal with it” look right back. 

They descended the staircase, Jughead in the forefront and Betty right behind. As they approached the living room they found the front door ajar, cold night air filtering in through its crack. Next to the door was a package, wrapped with a pink bow.

Jughead carefully moved forward towards the box, Betty edging against the walls, looking repeatedly over her should for any source of motion. As he reached the door he used the toe of his clunky boot to slowly topple the lid. Since nothing sinister popped out, he bent down to retrieve the packaged contents. Inside was a photo of Betty, seated at her nightstand, black wig affixed to her head, covering her usually blonde curls.

At the sight, Betty dropped the bat to cover her face with her palms, lip trembling and body tensing. Jughead looked up at her, wanting to provide comfort, but needing to finish searching the house.

“Betty, I’ll be right back. I just need to finish searching the house.” he promised.

A top to bottom hunt showed no sign of anyone still being present. He found her sitting on the sofa, blanket wrapped tightly around her, photos still in hand.

“Betty?” he questioned.

Her eyes glanced up to meet his. It was time to come clean. 

“Jug?” she said. “I think Chic may still be alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my Tumblr for fic updates!  
> @likemereckless


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty finally confides in Jughead about her time on the webcam and how Chic may be alive.
> 
> Her hands began to work the fabric of the blanket that was over them, pulling at small frayed pieces of fabric, watching them unravel. He imagined her not unlike the blanket, piece by piece revealing her truths to him, hoping there would be fabric left when it was all done.

They sat side by side on the Cooper couch, darkness still blanketing them just as the old flannel throw was. Since her declaration earlier she had been very silent and still- placid and stationary. Her fingers picked at her cuticles while her face remained static.

Upon her confession that Chic may be alive he had probed her for more information but here they still sat with no more details than were available before.

“Betty.” he prompted. She stirred a bit at the sound like it pulled her from somewhere deep and dark, like a worm on a fishhook hoisted from beneath the frigid depths. It was then she spoke.

Her voice, while timid, seemed poignant when her words reached his ears.

“Do you remember what you said to me at Veronica’s the night of Polly’s baby shower?” she asked. “When I asked you why you didn’t tell me about your dad being a Serpent.”

He nodded, not wanting to interject and allowing her time to formulate her thoughts.

“You said that you didn’t tell me because you were ashamed.” she clucked her tongue in her cheek, eyes still watching her tattered cuticles unwilling demise.

“I told you that if we were going to be together that I wanted to know all of you. And you?” she paused. “You said okay. Just like that.”

She didn’t continue then and he was unsure of where the conversation was headed.

“I do remember it all, Betty. And you do know me, better than anyone. And you accept me for who I am- good, bad, and ugly. Just as I love every part of you.” he said.

“But you won’t- you can’t.” she said finally looking up at him from her perch at his side. 

The skin around her fingernails was now red and raw and her voice was laced with tears. Jughead angled his body toward hers on the sofa and pulled her forward into his own body, her face coming to rest in the crook of his neck and his chin resting on her head.

“Betty.” he said softly. “Nothing you say will change how I feel about you.”

She pulled back again, retreating back into herself at his admission and through her tears her eyes burned like fire. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” she said. “I’ve done some things that I’m not proud of.”

“Haven’t, I?” he countered. “I confided in you about my brutality towards Penny. You never once held that against me or feared I may hurt you. Why would you assume I can’t handle your darkness, too?”

She regarded him carefully, taking his words and chewing them over before she spoke. 

“Fair enough.” she uttered. “But after, I’m afraid you won’t look at me the same way anymore.”

“Betty, do love me?” he asked.

“Yes.” she replied simply.

“And do you believe I love you?”

At that question her outward exterior fractured a bit more, a slight choke of tears chasing her words from her lips.

“Yes.” she said.

“Then we are going to be fine.” he pleaded, hands reaching out once again to brush against the side of her face. “Just tell me what is wrong, Betty. Especially if it’s going to help us figure out who is threatening you.”

“It’s going to be hard to hear, Jug.” she said matter of factly, pulling away from his touch again.

He understood that to divulge whatever she had been coveting away she needed to feel separate, detached for the moment from the events that would unravel. He waited again patiently until she began.

“When-“ she took a deep breath, as if the oxygen could enhance her words and make their passing from her lips somehow simpler.

“When you broke up with me, Jug, after your dad’s non-retirement party, I was in a dark place. I tired to live like nothing happened... school, the paper, Pops with Archie and V, but it was’t enough.”

At her words, Jughead’s stomach began to churn. Whatever she was about to tell him was his fault. Whatever she had done had been because of his rash actions. His palms clenched and his eye twitched. He chided himself to keep things cool or he would never hear the story and may never get more clues as to who wrote those letters. He couldn’t change the past, but he could try to help her heal.

“I cried - every night, Jug.” she said, tears falling from her eyes, her voice now clouded with her pain. 

“My whole world was imploding. My Mom was acting crazy, my dad was gone, Chic was- creepy and sinister....and I didn’t know how to deal with it all.”

She sniffled and brought her palms up to wipe her face and her eyes fell to her lap again.

“I’m sorry-“ he said, but was cut off by her speech, words stamping the air already thick with tension.

“Don’t.” she cautioned. “My anxiety was creeping up. I started cutting my palms again and I just needed an escape- a release.”

Her hands began to work the fabric of the blanket that was over them, pulling at small frayed pieces of fabric, watching them unravel. He imagined her not unlike the blanket, piece by piece revealing her truths to him, hoping there would be fabric left when it was all done.

“Chic has explained to me why he liked to partake in internet- arrangements. I was at my breaking point.” she explained, his heart beginning to beat more quickly now.

“A couple of times...I put on Polly’s red lipstick, some lingerie, the lingerie from the photo, and- I... chatted with a guy. Online.” she confessed, looking up at him briefly from under her lashes, mascara running like water down a drain.

To Jughead’s credit he didn’t blink and eye or make a sound. Internally he was screaming, cursing himself, never her, for his pointless actions that led her down that path.

“We just talked,” she cleared her throat, “risqué talk and he touched-“ she cut off there unable to finish her confession.

He leaned forward and wrapped her in his arms, sensing that for now her words had run dry, and she began to openly sob against his chest.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry.” she cried into the maroon of his soft sweater. “Can you ever forgive me?” 

“Hey.” he said quietly, using a finger to tip her chin up toward him. “You never apologize. I’m the one who should apologize. I left you alone through all of that. If anyone is at fault it’s me.” he said gently.

“You don’t find me disgusting?” she asked, lower lip still trembling.

“Betty, I could never.” he said honestly. “There is nothing you could do that would drive me away ever again. That was- the biggest mistake of my life and I don’t plan on making it twice.”

Her body went slack against him, his chest supporting the weight of her slumped frame. Without pause, her lips reached for his, connecting with a ferocious need for absolution which he would not deny her.

Their coupling wasn’t romantic or chaste; it was messy and intense and it spoke volumes. His lips down her skin erased whatever sins she believed she had committed. 

He tried to fill every kiss, every touch, every stroke with enough feeling to show her that she was loved and she, in turn, was almost feral in her need to show him how much he meant as well. 

Her surrender under him said that she was his alone and the stark bites he left on her unmarred skin ventured to do the same. Her name on his lips conveyed love and acceptance and her lips sang the same song right back.

After, they lay in a jumble of limbs, lips still traversing over one another, both having atoned for what they believed to be their sins towards one another in the way they knew best.

“If Chic is alive, Betty, I’m going to find him.” he said, fingertips skimming the soft skin between her shoulder blades.

“No, Jug.” she murmured. “We’ll find him together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post my stories on Tumblr @likemereckless for this fandom. Follow me for updates. I’ve been bouncing through a few stories here because when ideas hit me I just have to write them down and I hate having idle hands. I have another series of shorts that I’m hoping to get up soon. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Sorry for any errors- I don’t have a beta so if it’s late I do miss errors sometimes!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As things settle down and the core four let down their guard, darkness descends on Riverdale once again.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are probably a bunch of mistakes, but I’m going away for a few days and a few people really wanted the next chapter. I’ll come back and edit better soon!

The next two weeks passed in relative normalcy for the crew at Riverdale High. There were no more mysterious notes, no scandalous parental revelations, and even the halls of school seemed quiet and complacent. Jughead took in the silence as a warning, a calm before the storm. While everyone else’s guard may be momentarily lapse, he was ever ready for the invisible foe still lurking in the shadows.

School had ended an hour ago, but Veronica, Jughead, and Betty still sat on campus, lounging in the grass listening to one of Archie’s new songs They relished in the extra hours of sunlight and the warmth of the day. Betty lay back against Jughead, grass prickling her skin where her skirt ended, his arms wrapped around her, chin on her shoulder. 

Archie stopped playing and looked up at his captive audience. “Well, what do you think?”

“Archie, that was amazing,” gushed Betty. “I think it may be my favorite one yet.”

He smiled, bowing his head a bit self consciously. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure if maybe it was a little too…..”

“Touchy feely?” offered Jughead.

Veronica piped in, scooting closer into Archie’s side in the vacant space where his guitar had been. “It was perfect. We could all use a little bit more love around here.”

No one in that circle could disagree with what Veronica said. Right in that moment life seemed divine; just four friends with nowhere to be and no problems to solve.

“Cafe Archimedes called me this afternoon,” Archie blurted. “Their regular guitarist called out and they want me to play tomorrow night. Will you guys come?”

“Archie! That’s amazing!” yelled Veronica. “Of course we will be there!”

“I think a night out is exactly what we all need.” agreed Betty.

 

Saturday afternoon Betty and Veronica had penciled in some girl time while getting ready for Archie’s gig. Bottles of nail polish, tubes of mascara, and tabloid magazines lay scattered on Veronica’s bed, along with dozens of discarded outfits, not making the cut.

Veronica, finally satisfied with her appearance, modeled her chosen look for Betty. 

“He’s going to be so speechless he may not even be able to sing,” praised Betty, always one to compliment when a friend desired a good word.

Veronica smiled thanks back at her, running a brush of mascara over an eyelash again as if another coat would somehow achieve perfection. “I just want him to feel supported. To know that I am his champion in all things.” 

Placing the tube back down on her dresser, she came to sit on the comforter across from Betty. “Okay. Full disclosure?” she said, inhaling a deep breath. “I just want Archie to look at me the way you and Jughead look at each other.”

Betty was taken aback by this statement. She knew that the type of connection that she and Jug had was definitely a different variation than that of Veronica and Archie, but she never suspected her friend to be jealous of them before.

“V,” she murmured. “Archie does look at you that way. Archie loves you. He’s a straight shooter. He always has been. If he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have told you so. And he knows you support him.” As she finished soothing her friends worries, she placed a calming palm over her hand.

Veronica shook her head, feeling a bit silly for saying anything at all. “No, I know he loves me, B. I really do. Just from my point of view, it always seems a little different.”

“The truth is, V, you never see your own relationship as clearly as you see others. It’s like you view others through rose colored glasses and your own relationship through tinted shades.” she explained. “From where I’m sitting, Archie can never take his eyes off you.”

With that Veronica hugged Betty, soaking up the moment and how lucky she was to have found such a true, honest friend. She hadn’t had anything like that back in New York. The tone in the room was thick with emotion and her eyes were threatening to thunderstorm. She could not have waterworks ruin her mascara, so she had to break the moment.

“Okay, B. Let’s get you dressed to meet your Romeo.” she said with a wag of her brows.

 

The night proved to be not only successful for Archie whose performance was masterful, but was also the carefree evening that they needed to clear their minds of the ghoulish events of late. After, they found themselves in their usual booth at Pops, milkshakes and onion rings half eaten and forgotten as they reminisced about the night.

Pop stopped by the table to grab their empty glasses and drop off their check, assuring them there was no rush for them to vacate the booth. Betty was the first to reach for it, being the most accurate with her math and a stickler for leavening a 20% tip unlike most of her peers.

As she grabbed the bill she noticed some added scribble on the back in a pen color atypical for Pop Tate. She flipped the bill and the color began to drain from her face, eyes wide as she processed what was written.

“...Don’t you think, Betty?” Veronica finished. “Betty?”

She hadn’t heard a word of the discussion. She stared blankly at the paper in front of her, shoulders tense and spine sharp and straight. The hairs on her neck standing up on high alert.

“Betty?” questioned Jughead leaning over to her, grabbing the receipt from her fingers, reading the message emblazoned on the back.

Vanilla again? Why pretend? You’re not as vanilla as you’d like them to think. See you real soon.

Jughead’s fist unconsciously squished the receipt, blood boiling at the fact that whoever was behind this had been close enough to watch them tonight. He leapt from the booth, over the back of the seat, Archie hot on his heels, and ran to the counter where Pop Tate was wiping away ketchup with a damp cloth.

“Pop, was anyone else helping you here tonight? Or was anyone else near your receipt book?” he asked urgently.

“No. Just me tonight.” he shrugged. “But there was a guy at the counter all night…”. 

His words were cut off by Jughead’s adrenaline, hoping they could catch up to the phantom note writer tonight.  
“Did you see where he went?”

Pop shrugged and pointed his dishcloth clad finger at the door. “He left about three minutes ago.”

At his declaration they both took off outside, a rushed order for Betty and Veronica to stay in their booth. Veronica had slid into Betty’s side of the booth, arm around her shoulders to soothe her. As she began to assure her things would be fine, her cell phone rang.

“Daddy?” she said as she lifted the phone to her ear

“Mija!” he yelled back. “I’ve sent Andre to get you. There’s rumor of more gang riots erupting in town. He should be there any second. Go now.”

She clicked off the phone and quickly stood from the booth, grabbing Betty by the arm and pulling her out of the booth as well.

“C’mon.” she urged. “We’ve got to go!”

She pulled her outside where a black car was just pulling up. As their feet hit the gravel, they noticed a collection of others appear as well, all black boots, worn down from overuse. 

Betty’s eyes scanned upward, rolling the boots up to 7 pairs of legs, which belonged to 7 men, distinctly Ghoulies. “Hey there, Sugar Cookie.” one smiled.

“Andre!” Veronica yelled, as he ran from the car towards them. “Andre, you need to-“ her words were cut off as he grabbed her, forcibly dragging her towards the car. 

“We need to get, Betty! Andre! We need to help her!” she screamed, the dark of the night drowning out her words, her yells silenced by the slamming of the car door.

“Sorry, Ms. Lodge.” he said. “My orders were to protect you.”

As the car pulled away, Veronica watched from the back window as the crowd closed in on Betty, the boys nowhere in sight.

Betty’s breath came in short gasps, her instinct to fight kicking in. She lunged forward preparing to run, but her efforts were halted as something struck her from behind, her world going black.

 

“I’ve got her.” said one of the men to the rest. “You know what needs to be done next.”

 

As Betty was taken into darkness, another nightmare was brewing across town. Chains clinked as they dragged on the ground, rubbing up against the orange fabric of his jumpsuit. Two guards, both armed and close by, watched carefully as Hal Cooper was led from the jail, being prepped and transferred for a morning arraignment. 

As they opened the doors to the prisoner transport truck, they were met with crude weapons; pocket knives, barbed bats, and hunting knives. The guards, now incapacitated, left just the men and Hal standing in the lot. 

One of the Ghoulies stepped forward, using cutters to clip his chains. “Mr. Lodge sends his thanks for your services. He also has the package you requested.”

As they headed out into the night, a green truck pulled up to the scene, the driver pushing open the passenger door to allow Hal entrance.

“Time to get to work, Hal.” the driver said.

As he climbed in the truck, he replied, “Time to get to work, Chic.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She awoke with an ache in her head, pulse beating painfully in her temple behind her eye sockets. The pain quickly magnified as she tried to move her wrists, which she discovered were bound, stretched and fastened tightly behind her. She felt a desperate ache in her shoulder blades which she blamed on the angle of her arms.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I still don’t own them.

She awoke with an ache in her head, pulse beating painfully in her temple behind her eye sockets. The pain quickly magnified as she tried to move her wrists, which she discovered were bound, stretched and fastened tightly behind her. She felt a desperate ache in her shoulder blades which she blamed on the angle of her arms.

A deep groan escaped her lips as her eyesight began to clear; the light now becoming brighter and more focused added to the pounding in her head as it pierced her long dormant eyes. She assessed that she probably also had a concussion which was contributing to the constant fog in her head.

She licked her dry, cracked lips, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue. This, coupled with the pounding in her head, filled her throat with bile she tried to push back without success. Turning to the side, her body forcibly emptied the contents of her stomach, her chest heaving, sore shoulders torn with each jerk forward. 

After a few moments her tremors ceased. She spit to clear the taste of her mouth as with great effort rolled her body up to take in her surroundings. From what she could surmise she was in a basement of some sort; a bare dirt floor under her feet met damp cement walls, illuminated by a single hanging bulb above her head. The windowless room felt like a coffin and she wondered if this was the last thing the person who occupied this seat before her saw.

She chided herself for taking her thoughts there. She knew Jug and the Serpents would be searching for her, but she was doubtful this location would be easily pinpointed or found. In order to survive whatever was coming her way she knew she’d have to buy as much time as possible with her captors, the Ghoulies.

Betty wiggled and turned her wrists behind her, the twisty ties used to bind her to the chair cutting into her flesh drawing blood. The ties were so unbearably tight that her circulation was being cut off, each movement of her fingers causing a deep ache down to her bones. As she tested her wrist cuffs once more she realized her ankles were similarly bound to the chair legs as well. She pulled on the ties causing further tightening into the tender skin until she heard footsteps approaching from the stairwell behind her.

Her heart beat faster, a snare drum in the silent room, adrenaline coursing through her. Betty willed herself to be strong as she felt a hot breath at her neck followed by a familiar and unwelcome voice.

“Hey, Sugar Cookie. Let’s have some fun.”

———————  
Hours Prior

“I can’t believe he was right fucking there!” 

Jughead kicked at the gravel, frustrated that their mystery stalker seemed to have vanished into thin air. He sulked backed towards Pop’s with Archie at his side.

Archie trudged alongside his friend, hands shoved deep into his pockets, fists clenched in disgust as well. They had been so close to finding the faceless monster who had been causing so much distress and confusion. The fact that they had just missed him was a thorn in his side. 

As they reached the front of Pop's, Pop Tate himself came barreling out the door, phone still in hand. 

"Jughead! Thank goodness!" he yelled breathlessly from the stoop. "He- they- they took her! They just came and by the time I got out-"

Jughead's body snapped up, rigid. Though his brain needed to ask this question and his lips began to form words, he already knew with the distress evident on Pop Tate's face that it was Betty who was gone. 

"Pop- Betty! Where is she? What happ-"

Grief clouded Pop's face. “A group of men. They dragged her into a van. I've called the police already..." His voice trailed off. Calling the police wouldn't do much to help her right now. Who knew where she was or what was happening and he struggled with not being able to do more- to help her. As soon as he had seen them he had run from the counter, but his old knees only moved so fast. He had yelled to his other patrons, "Somebody help her!" But, what they say about passersby on the news is true- most just watched, not wanting to get caught up in the fray. By the time he reached the front it was too late.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, metal clang. "Son of a-." Jughead's words were cut off as his fist hit the dumpster for the second time, blood seeping fresh from his knuckles.

"Jug," said Archie, pulling his friend back from his inanimate opponent. But it was no use. He was already falling through the precipice of guilt and no rationale words or thoughts could pull him back at that moment.

"Jug, c'mon! You can't help her if you injure yourself right now!" Archie yelled, pressing his face close into his friend's, hoping to break him from this angry rage. 

With his hands still gripping Jughead’s collar, Archie's phone rang from in his pocket. The ringtone was that of Veronica Lodge. While Archie's brute force couldn't stop Jughead, that ringtone could.

"Veronica!" he yelled. "Maybe she knows- or is she with her? Did they take her, too?"

Archie quickly pulled out his phone and swiped the call open, placing Veronica on speakerphone. Pop had ambled his way down the steps to join them, wanting to offer any help he could to the boys.

"Archie?" yelled Veronica. "Arch- the Ghoulies, they took Betty!"

Jughead bit his lip. So it was them all along, he thought to himself. He felt naive for giving up on that lead after his encounter with those two burnouts.

"Veronica? Where are you? What happened?" Jughead asked.

Veronica, voice muffled with tears and guilt, began to share her story.

"When you left my father called. He said that there were whispers of more gang riots in town and that Andre would be picking me up immediately. Betty and I went outside to get you guys and wait for the car and they just- they came out of nowhere!" 

She took a deep breath, forcing out her words. "Andre, he pulled up and I grabbed her hand and I-" her sobs cut her off again, deep and sorrowful.

"Veronica!" cried Jughead authoritatively. "It's not your fault, but we need to find her. Please tell us what happened."

From the other side of the line they heard her yell, "But it IS my fault! Andre came and he- he grabbed me and dragged me to the car. I kept yelling that we needed to help her..."

Archie eyed Jughead over the phone, watching his rage build again.

"He tossed me in the back and drove away and I was screaming to go back-." Veronica couldn't speak anymore. Her guilt washed over her like tides on the shore. How could he ever forgive her? How could she forgive herself?

"He just left her?!" cried Jughead. "How could he do that? What kind of people are you to leave someone in the middle of a gang?" 

"Jug," reasoned Archie. "She didn't-"

"Betty is gone, Arch!" he exclaimed, waving his arms out at the open parking lot. "With the Ghoulies, nonetheless! God knows what Malachai is doing to her right now- he told me he would-"

"I'm sorry," yelled Veronica from the other side of the phone.

Jughead laughed at her sentiment. "Sorry can't do much. Did you see anything? A license plate? Any clues at all?"

"I- I don't. It all happened so fast..." she trailed off. 

"Veronica, it's alright," said Archie. "Can you try again to think of anything? Even something small?"

Her voice seemed to calm and she sniffled from the other end of the call.

"No. But, I think I know someone who can." she whispered, her voice more resigned and calm, anger flowing in as her tears began to cease. “My father.”  
———————

After hanging up the phone, Veronica began to put their plan into action. She regained her composure, fixed the mascara under her eyes, and knocked on her father's study.

"Come in," called Hiram from behind the heavy oak door.

She pushed past the door frame and approached his desk. He stood, coming around the front of his desk to embrace her fiercely.

"Oh, Mija," he sighed. "Thank God you're alright! When I heard-"

"Who called you, Daddy? I mean, about the riots," questioned Veronica.

"Mr. Keller called," he replied. "He had heard rumblings again since the attack at the prison tonight and wanted to make sure all of the kids were safe in lieu of last time."

"What attack on the prison?" she asked absorbing this new bit of information.

Hiram placed an arm on his daughter's cheek, mustering up as much sensitivity as he possibly could in his voice. 

"A truck was ambushed during Hal Cooper's transfer. He's missing which is why we thought the streets may not be safe tonight."

Veronica nodded. "So, you didn't set this all up to help the Ghoulies kidnap Betty?"

Without breaking eye contact, Hiram grabbed his daughter's arm, more tightly than usual. "Betty was taken?" he asked in mock concern.

"When Andre got me he just left here there, screaming for help. I can't help but see how this was all just a little too coincidental,” accused Veronica.

Hiram let go of Veronica and moved back behind his desk, reestablishing the barrier between them. 

"Again, Mija?" he sighed. "More false accusations? We've been through this. Do you really think I'd hurt your friends? Andre was just doing his job- protecting you.”

Veronica stared him down with fire behind her eyes, hate burning her from the inside out. Her rage bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. She had hated her father for a long time and she had forgiven many of his indiscretions, including what he had done to Jughead. But, this? This she wouldn't let go.

"Do I believe you would do something for personal gain at the risk of someone else? Do I believe you are capable of kidnapping and worse?"

Her father examined her features, noting the shift in her tone and behavior. She had confronted him often, but never had he seen her this agitated. Each new dealing of his seemed to stoke an already smoldering fire of hostility inside of her, building the tension and resentment.

"Mija, you know I-" he began.

"Yes. Daddy. Yes, I think you were involved," she yelled, punctuating her sentence with a point of her finger. She turned to walk from his office, fists clenching at her sides.

"Where are you going?" he yelled. "It's not safe out there, Veronica."

She turned to look at him, her eyes painted with hatred.

"No, Daddy. It's not safe in here.”

———————

Betty inhaled, taking a deep breath to mentally and physically prepare for what she was sure was headed her way. Jughead had warned her that the Ghoulies knew about her and knew she was his weakness. She had known she may be a target at some point, but this just didn't sit right with her. Why send the notes? Why not just take her? Why the build up? Her investigative radar was pulsing that this was bigger than this and she planned to do everything she could to buy time and find out.

From behind her back he appeared, clad in all black, messy hair splayed in all directions. He wasn't alone. Penny Peabody trailed behind him, a smug look plastered on her face.

"Not so tough without your back-up, are you?" she asked, smirking at Betty's predicament.

Betty cleared he throat, her voice hoarse from lack of water and lack of use. 

"He's going to kill you, you know." she stated matter of factly.

"No, sweetie, he won't. After this, after we deliver you, we get to disappear... better place and better life,” she sneered.

Betty filed that information away. She knew that this was not just a revenge plot. It was almost like a game.

"Well, then to whom do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" she asked.

Penny laughed again, pulling up a stool to sit off to her left. 

"You really think I'm that stupid?" she asked. "You'll find out soon enough. In the meantime, we've got some scores to settle."

Penny looked over at Malachai and nodded. The sinister grin that spread across his face like a shadow on the moon caused a shudder to run through Betty. She almost wished her mystery captor would appear now. From what Jug had told her, Malachai was a decrepit, disgusting excuse for a human- no moral compass and no boundaries in his crudeness.

Penny nodded at over to him and leaned back against the cement brick wall. 

"Just remember he wants her in one piece. Nothing major,” she told her accomplice while reaching into her jacket to pull out what Betty recognized as her cell phone. Penny clicked it open, and held it up to record.

Betty knew that the recording was not for Penny's own memories, but probably for Jughead. She resolved herself to take what was coming without breaking. Her own saving grace seemed to be that her mystery stalker seemed to want her in one piece.

Once again she felt Malachai's hot breath on her cheek, the staunch odor of cigarette smoke and mint wafting into her nostrils. She braced herself once again, but could not help the tremble and reemergence of bile from her stomach when she felt his tongue, hot and vile against her face, moving from her jawbone up her cheek with an ominous laugh.

"Alright, Serpent Queen," he teased. "Let's see what you're made of.”

———————

Jughead stood pacing back in forth in the Andrews’ garage, wearing a hole in the threadbare old throw rug that lay at his feet. Archie, still at his side, hadn't unclenched his jaw since this whole debacle had begun. Around them were the Serpents, all up in arms and ready to scour Riverdale for their Queen.

"There has to be some type of lead as to where the Ghoulies would have taken her," said Toni. "They don't have that big of a hold in town and someone must know where they would be hiding out."

Cheryl shook her head and stepped front and center in the room. "It just doesn't make sense. These abominations of humanity can barely read, yet they formulate letters and an airtight plan with Hiram Lodge to abduct Betty?" She walked over to Jughead, placing a hand on his crossed arms. "If we want to find her we have to try and understand why Hiram Lodge would want Betty. What possible benefit could he gain from kidnapping her?"

Archie shrugged, looking around at the gang in his garage. "Silencing Alice? Maybe she had something on him or on one of his developments?"

As they argued over possibilities, two figures burst through the door of the garage. Kevin Keller fell through the frame, breathless, with panic written on his face, followed by Veronica Lodge.

At the sight of Veronica, Toni and Cheryl were immediately on their feet, springing at her like a lion on a gazelle.

"What made you think it was even remotely a good idea to walk in that door?" rang out Toni's voice as her hands made contact with Veronica's shoulders.

Veronica put her hands up in surrender. "I'm here to help! I have a plan."

"And I have news," yelled Kevin, scanning the crowd in the garage. "A transport van taking Betty's father to Hiram Lodge's new prison was attacked. The guards were badly injured and Hal Cooper is nowhere to be found."

Jughead's hands came up to cover his face, rubbing at the stress that was already weighing him down.

Kevin looked at him apologetically. "The security footage distinctly shows Ghoulies taking the guards out and Hal climbing in an unmarked car with an unidentified driver," Kevin continued.

This bombshell stopped Toni and Cheryl from throttling Veronica as a wave of understanding began to pass between them.

"So, Hal escaped, helped by Ghoulies, on his way to Veronica's father's prison," Jughead summarized. "This is far deeper than we originally thought. If Hal has Betty-"

"I have a plan," interrupted Veronica. "I know how we can get to my Dad and I bet he knows exactly where Betty and her father are."

Archie stepped forward, ready for action, looking at Jughead for the go ahead.

Tired and lost he sighed and nodded his head.

"What do we need to do, Ronnie?" asked Archie.

Veronica looked around the garage at the motley crew of Serpents and took a deep breath. "You're going to kidnap me as ransom."


End file.
